Weeks without an entry a week with two

Its coming on strong again. I can hear the sickening sound of hope slamming against the ceiling of reality that keeps me from the stars of my dreams. I don't have any desire to try the bottles that promise escape. So much of me is invested in him that the idea of losing him at any point will cause a major malfunction in the neuro-department of my being. I hate that I let him mean this much to me so I tell myself I would be like this with any of my friends but its common knowledge he is so much more than a friend. I get upset that I so willingly give of myself by instinctual impulse that I hardly realize I never gain any substantial returns at least not the returns that I need. I tell myself everyone gives in their own way but I see when my efforts far exceed others own. I'm jumping ship mid sink but there is another tragic incident I must attend to first if there is to be any survivors left. I won't reach for the preserver yet in this instance as I stubbornly believe that the tear in the hull is only a slight matter of patch work and a good use of the pump to save any helmsman from drowning in the filmy water of history that I continue to traverse upon inconsolably. Spare me the sympathy I know I search for.

Hindsight truly is 20/20

I'm not sleeping well again. It seems to be that the insomnia always comes when I have the next day to do nothing. Tomorrow is my only day off. My only day to do errands yet its 4:30 a.m and I can't stop dissecting the word motivation. I'm trying to discern from its meaning the cause of my stubbornness in letting things go. Is it control? Is it ego? I can't tell myself. I sleep to relieve myself for a few hours of conciousness but waking is so hard to escape from. Whenever I do wake I am just confronted by what I run from. I like reading the last post I made. It was when I was down south in Selma Alabama. I attended church that morning at Brown Chapel AME. Thats the day that my current problem stepped into my life. I couldn't sleep than and now two months and a week later I can't sleep again. Poetic justice or just some really bad karma? God is the only judge and he must have his hand in this somewhere

This isn't insomnia but its killing me all the same

I'm having trouble sleeping again. At first its cause I am not tired and than when I am tired its cause of the nightmares/dreams I'm having and if its not those than tits just the plan fact that I am too scared to spend much time unguarded within reality. I keep waking up and falling back asleep and waking up and falling back asleep. Today is our one day to sleep in but I can't find it in me to sleep in. The nightmares this time were torturous. I keep seeing myself in some sort of holding cell and I could hear T.K screaming and there was nothing I could do to go help her. The other one was more torturous because it just reminded me of my own loneliness. Well after about the 6th time of waking up I decided to just stay up and come online and write something. I miss my dog. If she was with me I could go outside with her and play fetch or just walk and calmly let out of my pores this stress that is eating away at my skin.

Call it what you will but I get my way

I know I'm going to be an amazing teacher. I won't waste time trying to be modest and say "oh I hope I'll do well" cause I know I will do well. I know when I am in that classroom I will show all of my gifts and talents and not only will I teach those childern about the dates, people, and events of the past I will inspire them to become the people who make those events that make those days significant. It may be hard headed and stubborn to say all this but its so true. Sometimes I am just so filled with the hope and ambitions inside me that I have trouble even acknowledging any other option but success exist. I am not sorry for this quality. It can only help me. I have no clue where I am going but I can tell you when I get there I am going to TEACH and people will LEARN and that is all there is to it. Today someone told me they want me to teach their childern. And you can bet I will. I will teach their childern and teach them and their friends and their pets and this world! Mark my words I will teach. And I'll be great at it.

Forlorn hopes on fraying napkins

I'm becoming desolate. syn= deserted, uninhabited, empty, bare, barren, bleak, forsaken, abandoned 2. despondent, dejected, forlorn, downcast, depressed, sad, melancholy; sorrowful, wretched, miserable. -v.3. ruin. ravage, devastate; destroy, demolish, lay waste. 4. sadden, grieve, depress, distress, dishearten, discourage. This is of course according to Roget's Thesaurus published by Random house who use to publish Hunter when he was still with us and we all know a Thesaurus was the only dinosaur to survive the meteor shower/creation of eden because of its sensiblity and wit as witnessed by the thousands of clever ways to say one word. I am pure unadulterated destruction and rage and chaos wrapped around bones and contained by epidermus. This should scare me. And it does. Will it scare others? No doubt. I'm keeping this online journal alive for the sake of communicating with you Crystal. I believe this is important. I can become detached when I talk on a computer. Just like I become detached when I am driving. Typing is a function. I can perform this function well. I let myself go today. You know how I have been feeling. I should tell you why I am feeling that way or whats happen this past weekend to make me feel like this but the only thought going through my head is I am just as pretty as her! I could get it if she was 5' 9" with long tan legs and beautiful white teeth but if she is as pretty and kind as me than why not me? She sold back a calculus book I believe I can't remember exactly because I was busy critiquing every inch of my body to find the flaw that made a difference in our beauty for we were both equally appealing. Is it cause she is blonde? I could do blonde. I mean its only hair after all. "I'm not losing sleep over this you people are unreedemable indescriable" I like listening to Say Anything. Max writes wonderful lyrics that touch me. I still don't have that precious commodity, that golden oil of which I would gladly sacrifice young lambs for. Control. Its elusive, my own inner trout that refuses to swim straight into my net. I'm going to sleep now. I fear anymore release

Frozen toes and a guardian angel

Last night I learned the harsh limits of my own existence. I was on my way home from an impromptu movie night with a friend and my mind ran away on me as I pulled into the parking lot in front of my apartment. I hopped out of Sherman, making sure to grab my cd player face and locking the driver door, only to get to the stairwell and realize I locked my keys in the truck. After ripping my car atenna of the side of Sherman by some MacGyver inspired move I attempted to jimmy my locks open. It didn't work but I now have a lovely scar on my left index finger from where the atenna slipped and cut me. So I call my dad and explain to him exactly what tools I have and ask for a clever way into my truck utilizing a coat hanger, a lighter, my car atenna and a brick. He laughs as if this was a joke but than realizes it is one a.m in South Bend and figures out that I'm dead serious. So he tells me not to break a window and to go somewhere warm till he can get there and let me in. 'This is the last thing I want' I thought, that was until I hear my mother's voice asking what's wrong and than her high pitched voice of aggression begin the classic rant and rave whenever I make a blunder. I hang up with my dad and before I can start to shiver and shake (not from the cold) I try everyone in my phone book to see if there is anyway I could just stay with them until tomorrow when my roomie was dued home and thus save myself from giving my mother another good point to argue with me about why I should just come home for college and the oldie but goodie argument of how I am a failure. Luckily my roommates car was unlocked and so I sat in there while I waited for my dad to get to South Bend. The only person who would answer their phone was Chaz and so he kept me company. Sometimes I get upset by the past and the things that happen between him and I but its moments like last night that make me count the stars in blessings to have somebody I know I can turn too who not only understands the wacked out family I come from but can sympathesize and say the right thing by not saying anything. Eventually my father in the shining suburban came and got my keys out for me and the first thing I did upon entering the Batcave was to don two extra pairs of socks and grab my warmest hoodie. I never realized how cold two a.m is when you don't have liquor in your blood stream. Haha

Teacher Attrition..oh vey

I don't know why but I can't stand english classes. It's almost as bad as my math classes except I'm actually enjoying that one somewhat. I guess its my horrible grasp on grammar that I zone out on this. I love to write don't get me wrong I just hate setting limits for myself. When I write about a topic I want to be able to dive straight into it and worry about citations and commas and x does not cause y thesis statements behind. It gets bothersome having to crank out these papers that I truly do have passion for the topics but the weight of the regulations have me producing junk that a squirrel with half of a pencil could scrawl on the inside of a walnut. On other topics I've been keeping myself busy (when don't I?) I have finished reading Jitterbug Perfume, started listening to a new band, who not as good as Say Anything, is toe tapping worthy (Arctic Monkeys) I have all my books quoted too! That's a tiring and long process but in the end it pays off (even though I've now slipped behind on Econ oh well). Today the History club is hosting a lecture by a student who will be presenting her research on the plague at 3:00pm. I can't wait, I don't know much about the plague so maybe this will pique my interest in the topic. Uh oh here comes the enforcer of the common laws of paper structure. Wish me luck on this paper!